


In Which Gavin Learns to Love an Elder God

by OhNoMyBreadsticks



Series: Of Gods and their Humans [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Elijah Kamski as Gavin's brother is briefly mentioned, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, References to Depression, but with magic, modern day AU, no idea how to tag 'elder forest gods' but we've got that goin on too, no there's no smut with the actual elk look elsewhere for that please, using Niles as RK900's name for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-11 11:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: Gavin Reed hadn't exactly planned much when he decided to backpack into the woods for an unknown period of time as a last, desperate, bid to clear his head.  Running into a creature about three times his size with huge antlers is kind of making him regret that decision.Deer aren’t carnivorous, right?  Or is it an elk?  Gavin might just find out.





	In Which Gavin Learns to Love an Elder God

**Author's Note:**

> Starting off strong here with some soft Gav9 AU shit folks! Not a weird way to enter the fandom at all lol.  
> I could honestly read about this terrible trash man hooking up with his beautiful non-human bf for hours so here you go I wrote some of my own.
> 
> sidenote: if you've never heard a bull elk bugle I recommend the first 15 seconds of [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orSIhYAI3VI) just for context. Nature is terrifying.
> 
> Beta-ed by the lovely [thislittlekumquat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thislittlekumquat/pseuds/thislittlekumquat) <3

The first time Gavin sees the damn thing is a couple days into his hike, once he’s far enough into the forest to be both really relaxed and really jumpy. At first he doesn’t think it’s a living thing - just another set of branches swaying in the wind and trying to scare him. And then it honest to god moves and Gavin nearly shits himself. It’s too far away to be that big, and it takes him a few moments to process what it is - a hulking, lumbering animal, pitch black and with antlers that twist into the sky like branches. An elk? A deer? He’s never been that hot on animal identification, but he knows he’s at least close with one of those guesses. Gavin could swear it’s watching him with one big round eye, but then it turns and lumbers away into the forest and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Deer aren’t carnivorous, right?

Gavin thinks about that as he sets up camp for the night, realizing he hadn’t really….done any research into what lives in this forest before he just waltzed his ass into it. An unsurprising turn of events really. He’s never been one to prepare for anything ever. Or to really care about his own well-being, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish. He reminds himself sternly that he’s out here in the woods to get out of his head, like that’s gonna help. Wasn’t like he had much else to do, what with being unemployed and pretty much friendless. The one therapy session he had scraped together the money for had told him to try and get outside more, let nature heal him or whatever.

He’s always liked the outdoors. Or, well, he did when he was a kid. So the idea of just disappearing into the woods had sounded nice. And as the first thing in fucking months that had ‘sounded nice’, Gavin had clung to the idea like a drowning rat.

The second time, Gavin doesn’t so much see the damn thing as he _hears_ it. The sun is just coming up and filtering down through the trees like a fine mist. His eyes are still closed, but he’s waking up slowly when a noise tears through the comparative silence of early morning. It’s like nothing he’s ever heard, so close to a human scream that it makes his breath catch in his chest as he bolts upright. Gavin’s eyes dart fearfully around the little glade he’s holed up in, but he can’t make out the source of the sound. There’s brush crackling in the distance though, and he tries to focus on that, like seeing whatever caused that sound is gonna stop it from tearing him limb from limb. And suddenly there it is again, that huge black form nosing its way around a bush to stare him dead in the face. Its nostrils are huffing out steam in the cold morning air, and it opens its mouth, and that noise comes out, and Gavin isn’t sure if he’s laughing or crying from the adrenaline as he flops back down in his sleeping bag. 

Of course it’s the big ass elk. At some point he had remembered that deer are supposed to be smaller, but now he’s not sure if this thing isn’t just a freak of nature. It’s definitely not a monster, no matter what his sleep-addled brain is trying to insist. Not that he’s ever heard an elk make a noise like that, but it’s weirdly comforting to know it’s nothing scary. The beast stares at him for a few moments longer, like it’s expecting him to get up and do something. Gavin doesn’t rise to the challenge, body too exhausted from the adrenaline shock, and so eventually the elk just lumbers away. He tries not to feel the twinge of disappointment as he’s left alone in the forest again. He’s almost been getting used to it being around.

That’s not to say that every time Gavin sees the black elk his heart doesn’t skip a beat out of sheer terror. No, it’s way too big and way too threatening of a shape not to scare him. But on a scale of “friendly chipmunk” to “a bear that hasn’t eaten in a week”, this animal didn’t seem outright antagonistic. It hadn’t even gotten that close to him the few times he’d seen it, and that’s a blessing at least. Maybe, Gavin thinks dimly, maybe _it’s_ afraid of _him_. Animals are supposed to be afraid of humans, right? It’s wishful thinking, he knows, since that thing is like...three times his size and could easily gore him to death. But it hasn’t yet, so he gets kind of used to seeing it around in the background. He’s probably trespassing through its territory, since he’s just kind of aimlessly wandering through the forest. For days at least, although Gavin’s not sure about time at this point. 

‘Aimless’ is a good word for his life in general, Gavin thinks with a sigh as he stumbles over what feels like the two-hundredth moss covered log in his path. It’s not like he’s ever had a meaningful career or even the drive to find one after he flunked out of college. Nothing’s ever really _clicked_ in his brain, especially not with the haze of failure hanging over him any time he thinks about his half brother and his shining success. The one thing Gavin’s proud to say is that he never caved and contacted the bastard. No, he still had his pride there. He’d crawl through the mud before he picked up the phone and embarrassed himself in front of that rich asshole. Gavin’s seen pictures of him on the television, and he knows they share the same shining eyes and sharp grin an ex boyfriend had told him once were unsettlingly hot. 

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s always been his problem, that he’s “unsettling”. Gavin’s never been pleasant enough to keep anyone around for too long, always too sharp or too mean or too much. Ironic, given that he’s never felt like enough at any point in his life. As he gets ready to try and reprimand himself for spiraling into these same familiar thoughts again, Gavin’s foot catches on a rock and he finds himself literally spiraling downwards, a ravine he hadn’t noticed opening up in front of him like some sort of wicked mouth.

Gavin can hear himself scream as he pitches down, hands reaching out desperately to try and grab hold of something to stop his fall. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea, as he feels his sleeve catch on a sharp branch and rip open, his skin tearing as well. This was all a bad idea, his brain corrects him, snide and helpful as always, especially the part where you were feeling so bad for yourself you fell down a hole. He doesn’t have time to formulate a snarky response to his own thoughts because oh yeah, there’s the bottom of the ravine, and he’s slamming into it half on his side, half on his back. There’s a blinding pain on his face, and Gavin opens his mouth to taste the copper tang of blood dripping onto his lips from some sort of ugly gash further up. 

His chest heaves weakly as Gavin tries not to cry, legs curling up as his body reacts to the impact. He can’t pass out, he thinks with some effort, that would be signing his own death warrant. The thought hits him like a freight train then - if he died here, no one would know. Absolutely no one would think to look for him in this godforsaken forest. He’ll just rot here, and maybe something will come and do him the service of chewing up whatever’s left over. That dull, nasty, mean little part of Gavin’s brain that’s always struggling to be heard pipes up and adds that maybe that’s for the best, at least then he’d be _helpful_. Maybe elk are actually carnivorous, and that big guy will get a good meal out of his useless corpse. 

Gavin wonders if the elk will even notice he’s gone. Probably not.  
…

There’s a dull snuffling noise above him, and the clump-clump of hooves catching on stones. Something warm huffs across his skin, disturbing the blood already drying there. A pause. The sound of something large shifting its weight thoughtfully, waiting for some sign of life from the body beneath it. 

…

… 

Gavin feels soft pressure on his face, accompanied by a dull sting as he realizes whatever it is is pressing on a big ugly cut that’s all the way across his nose. The events of the fall ease back into focus through the fog of his mind, and suddenly he can feel every bruise and cut on his body. Groaning, he forces his eyes open, ready to see what kind of gross piece of moss has landed on his face. What he sees instead is….a face? Yeah, in fact, probably the most handsome face he’s ever seen in his goddamn life staring down at him. The cheekbones are high and sharp, jaw wide and set in concentration as whoever it is cradles Gavin’s face. Or maybe “whatever” is a better word, as his eyes wander upwards and catch sight of two large, round eyes deep set into the skull that are completely devoid of pupil or iris, and the rack of antlers sprouting out of the soft brown hair falling softly onto its face. 

Gavin feels his chest constrict in panic as the thing lifts a hand off of his face and he sees bright crimson staining the fingers. He suddenly can’t breathe, his throat closing in a sensation that’s treacherously familiar. His fingers clench into useless fists and he struggles to sit up, feet kicking weakly. He’s gotta get away from here, he’s gotta run, he’s gonna die if he doesn’t do something--

There’s a gentle weight on his chest, and Gavin’s wide eyes are drawn up into the twin voids above him, and suddenly….suddenly everything seems so much softer than it was a moment ago. His throat opens up and he sucks in a needy breath, oxygen flowing through his lungs and helping him calm down. The eyes above him are milky grey now, and he could swear there’s movement there, as if they weren’t eyes but pools of water disturbed by his frantic thrashing. The weight on his chest is moving up and down slowly, and he realizes belatedly that it’s a hand helping him breath, simulating the slow rise and fall of a calm person’s breathing pattern. 

Gavin’s not sure how long he lays there, just breathing in tandem with this strange man, creature, whatever. Eventually that gentle hand goes back to work cleaning his face, wiping away blood and dirt and replacing it with cool strips of fabric soaked in god knows what. “Wh-who are you?” Gavin finally croaks out, his voice sounding broken and cracked after weeks of disuse and the screaming from earlier. But he doesn’t get an answer, just a soft hum of acknowledgment and almost a hint of a smile from above. His eyes slip closed as he feels long fingers carding through his hair, the exhaustion catching up with him again.

The second time Gavin wakes up, he expects this all to have been a weird fever dream caused by wandering the woods for weeks and then falling on his ass. But no, to his surprise, he blinks his eyes open to meet those strange ones looking back down at him still. This time Gavin sits up slowly, and he feels gentle hands on his back supporting the sore and abused muscles in his core. A wheeze escapes his lips as he feels the extent of the damage on his body again, but the pain is all very….soft. Distant, almost. There’s a bandage wrapped around his arm, and a compress across the bridge of his nose. “Did you….” he asks, hating again how gross his voice sounds, like he’s been swallowing gravel. The man tilts his head curiously, causing the antlers to throw threatening shadows along the wall of the cave. 

Gavin suddenly realizes they’re in some sort of spacious, clean-ish cave. 

He taps the bandage on his nose and gets a nod this time, and another soft hum as his hand is taken by the wrist and guided gently away from the bandage. “Yeah, yeah, I won’t pick at it,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

Now that Gavin has sat up and isn’t laying across the man’s lap, the guy seems to be ready to move, shifting into a standing position and striding away across the sandy floor of the cave. Gavin feels something in his chest tighten, and he wants to ask him not to go, but that’s too needy, that’s too much. So instead he uses the moment to observe his apparent rescuer, taking in the clean lines of his back, the skin weirdly pale even in the dim light of the room. Yeah, this is definitely a fever dream, Gavin thinks to himself, because up until the antlers this dude is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. The thirsty part of his mind supplies that hey, the antlers aren’t even that bad, focus on the positives here. Like the fact that all this guy’s wearing are a pair of worn trousers, held up by a cord tied just tight enough around his waist. But not tight enough, apparently, to keep them up too high, because once he turns around Gavin is treated to the dip of sharp hip bones and the slight dusting of dark hair creeping up over the hem. 

Choking just a bit on his own spit, Gavin looks away from his waist and finds himself caught up in that face again, now mottled with concern as the man approaches and offers him a crude bowl of...something edible, and a cup of water. He accepts the cup with a grateful “thanks” and sips at it as he takes in the dusting of freckles across the strong nose, and the fuzzy black ears that are flicking lazily next to the antlers. “You’re real, right?” Gavin asks once the water’s had a chance to help his throat recover, “Like...I’m not dead and this is all just a weird dream?” The man licks his lips and opens them briefly, hesitation clearly written across his face. He eventually holds up a hand, offering it to Gavin, who reaches out with his own fingers and feels the warm touch of human skin against his. Yeah, pretty real. He didn’t realize just how long it’s been since he’s had another hand in his, and his fingers reflexively curl around the other man’s hand. He isn’t pushed away; in fact, those delicate fingers twitch against his, a thumb running over the skin on his hand. It takes all of his self control to pull away, but there’s something he needs to clear the air of.

“Can you….can you not talk?” Gavin asks, trying to set a baseline for what’s going on around here. The man in front of him rubs nervously at his neck, a painfully human gesture that makes Gavin want to chuckle at how bashful he suddenly looks. He makes a rather sad noise in the back of his throat, shrugging his shoulders in a pretty clear “no”. Gavin realizes that this should probably weird him out, but he just can’t bring himself to care. Not when this guy has clearly saved his sorry ass. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not the best conversationalist, or so I’ve been told” he says with a matching shrug, “And besides, you can kinda get what I’m saying, right?” This receives an enthusiastic nod, and Gavin manages to get spooked by the sudden flurry of antler movement, scooting back in alarm and then laughing weakly at his own idiocy. “Sorry, sorry, just takes a bit to get used to” he admits, and the man seems to understand, shifting away slightly to give him some space.

They sit there, for a while, in comfortable silence as Gavin eats what turns out to be a collection of mushrooms and leafy greens. He usually wouldn’t stand for this kind of rabbit food, but he’s hungry, and anything’s better than starving to death. And the guy looks so pleased that he’s eating, he’s practically beaming at each little bite Gavin forces down his throat. He sets the bowl down with a satisfied sigh once it’s empty, his body clapping him on the back for finally getting some sustenance that isn’t fucking protein bars. The longer this drags on, the more Gavin’s able to convince himself this isn’t a weird dream. His body feels real, right down to the twinges and cramps from where he’d fallen down the ravine. His brain feels real, still prodding around like a bored child and trying to figure out what stupid thing needs to leave his mouth next. And this gorgeous person in front of him seems more than real, from his stupid freckles to his weirdly kind eyes. 

Gavin realizes he still doesn’t know this guy’s name, and the thought hits him that it’s pretty damn unlikely he even has a name, given he lives in the forest and can’t fucking speak. He watches him take the dishes away and busy himself slowly and calmly with the process of making some sort of makeshift bed for Gavin. And Gavin feels a weird pang of sadness in his chest. What has he done to deserve this kind of kindness? The dude doesn’t even know his name. Oh shit, he doesn’t know Gavin’s name because Gavin’s a rude idiot. “My name’s Gavin,” he blurts out suddenly, causing the man to stop what he’s doing and swivel his head around in what should have been an unsettling motion, “It’s uh….yeah, I’m Gavin,” he repeats again, pointing rather uselessly at his chest as he speaks.

The man’s mouth crinkles up into a smile and good god he has fucking dimples when he smiles like that. He pats the bed invitingly, clearly wanting Gavin to drag his sorry ass over there and rest. Which Gavin manages, despite the ache of his bones when he finally does move. He’s not even sure if the message got through, but as soon as he lays down on the soft pile of moss and furs he can’t bring himself to really care anymore. He hasn’t been this comfortable in weeks, not even in his nice sleeping bag on days when he had found a clearing that wasn’t full of rocks. His eyes are slipping closed again, and he can, embarrassingly, feel himself getting tucked in like some sort of little kid. Maybe it’s his imagination, but he could swear he hears a voice, low and rumbling from disuse as it sounds out a few broken syllables. “Ga….vin. Gavin.” Almost like a mantra. It’s the best damn thing he’s heard in years.

…

The sound of hooves echoes dully through the cave, the sound muffled in the sand but still loud enough to be heard. A large body shuffles to turn in a space that’s almost too small for it, the snuffle of a snout making sure the sleeping human is still there. 

…

…

The next few days pass by in what Gavin would describe as ‘a blur’. Because he’s still not sure he didn’t actually concuss himself when he fell down that ravine. There’s starting to be fewer and fewer other explanations for why he’s living in the lap of luxury in a nice ass cave while a hot guy takes care of him. In his defense, the guy does a decent job of not overwhelming him or making him feel like a total invalid. He actively encourages Gavin to get up and move around on his own, and the entrance to the cave is never blocked. It’s almost like he could just pack up and leave whenever he wants to. His gear is in one corner of the cave, he’s seen it there, but for some reason Gavin can’t bring himself to pick it up and try to head back out. He wonders why, but doesn’t wonder too hard.

One day, as he’s finally working the kinks out of his back with some ridiculous stretches, Gavin catches sight of some weird markings high up on the cave wall that he hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, what are these?” he asks, and the man dutifully pads over to see what he’s pointing at, grabbing one of the torches from its sconce on the wall to hold up. With the added light, Gavin can see that they’re intricate murals, winding lines of black and red clay pigment, and what he’s pretty sure are runes or some other mystic bullshit. He squints, trying to figure out if there are any pictures he can recognize. There’s a forest, and some poorly rendered stick people with spears and shit. Then there’s….there’s a fire? He’s not sure, but something bad’s happening to those stick people. He almost lets out a snort of laughter, but catches himself. Come on Gavin, don’t add ‘blaspheming ancient dead people’ to your list of asshole stuff you’ve done. And now they’re clearly building some sort of altar, the structure chillingly easy to recognize. 

He’s about to open his mouth and uselessly ask his companion what the altar was for when his eyes lock onto a figure so recognizable his mouth goes dry. A hulking black elk, helpfully rendered with burning red eyes and what looks like moss hanging off its antlers, emerging from the forest. Gavin swallows hard as he sees the little people worshipping, clearly depending on this massive creature for protection or guidance or...whatever. It shouldn’t take him quite this much effort, but he finally turns to look at the man standing next to him, pointing a finger slowly up at the drawing of the elk.

“That’s you, isn’t it,” he says, again feeling like he should win an award for most obvious shit ever said out loud. Of course it fucking is. He’s not sure why his brain never made the connection between ‘antlers’ and ‘that giant animal that’s been following you for weeks’. The eyes that stare back at him aren’t red, but Gavin can almost see himself reflected in them, and he feels that primal fear start to build up again before there’s a soft thumping noise, the man patting lightly at his own chest and nodding. Yeah, that’s me, he seems to say, and he looks pretty proud of himself at that. Proud, but a little bit wistful. 

Gavin can feel his heart thumping away in his chest as his mind comes to terms with yet another reality-bending fuck you. “So you’ve….you’ve been watching me this whole time,” he says, and the words come out softer than he expected. “You watched me blunder my sorry ass all over your forest, straight into a ravine, and you what, you felt sorry for me? Didn’t want to have to deal with my skeleton polluting your forest so you dragged me back here?”

Gavin can feel the hot curl of shame starting up in his gut, overpowering the other emotions desperately trying to be heard, whispering that somebody was watching out for him, somebody cared, somebody _saw_ him and didn’t walk away. He knows he’s talking too fast now, knows the guy has trouble following when the words all blur together, but he can’t seem to stop.

“Well I’m sorry to get in your way, I should never have taken up this much of your time. Clearly you’ve got important business to get back to ruling the forest or whatever it is you do in your spare time. Or are you waiting to see what other dumb SHIT I’ll get myself into so you can laugh about it later once I’m dead?!”

He’s shouting, and it’s not fair, he just can’t stand the thought of being pitied right now, he should shut his mouth he should…

“Gavin?”

The voice cuts through his thoughts like a hot knife, and there’s a warm hand on his cheek, thumb brushing away the tears he hadn’t realized were forming in the corners of his eyes. “Gavin,” he murmurs again, softly, his eyebrows crinkling together as he looks down with worry at the man clearly having a meltdown in front of him. And now Gavin can’t help himself, he’s fucking bawling, because his shitty ass name is the only word this guy can say, and it hurts like hell to realize that it’s the first time someone’s said his name like that in a long time. Like he’s someone worth something, like this guy actually cares if he can stand on his own two feet. Which, coincidentally, he can’t, his legs coming apart like jelly underneath him as he slides to the floor. And now there’s strong arms wrapped around him and he’s shaking into them, the sobs clawing his way up and out of his throat as he grieves for the past ten years of his life, for all the nights he’s wanted to cry like this but couldn’t, not able to bear the thought of doing it alone.

…

Gavin opens his eyes and sees the shape in the doorway of the cave, almost blocking out the sliver of moonlight trying to creep in and illuminate his little bed. It blinks dolefully at him, and lowers its head like an apology, antlers throwing shadows caging across Gavin’s face. He pats the bed next to him sleepily, not needing any words to express himself in this hazy darkness. The elk slowly lumbers towards him, cautious and slow as its legs fold down and the soft snout noses at Gavin’s arm. A low chuckle rumbles out of his chest and he lets his eyes slip closed, feeling the warmth from his companion blanketing him.

…  
…

Gavin throws himself into helping the man learn to speak after that. Figures he shouldn’t let his name be the only word he knows, although that hot core in his chest insists that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea… Slowly, slowly, he coaxes that deep baritone out, and suddenly Gavin realizes that it’s not so much that he can’t speak, it’s that it’s been so long that he’s forgotten how to make the right sounds.

“Used to come here. Used to speak,” the man explains in halting English that’s accented by some language Gavin’s not sure he could ever understand, and he points up at the stick people in the murals, “Alone...long time.” Gavin feels that twinge in his chest again, and pats him sympathetically on the arm. “Me too buddy. Although probably not nearly as long.” And the laugh that gets out of him is worth every second of fumbling instruction and frustrating trial and error.

“You must have a name,” Gavin insists again, as they sit side by side and draw letters in the soft sand of the cave. “I refuse to believe those assholes spent hundreds of years worshipping you and didn’t give you a name.”

The man shrugs, doodling runes absent-mindedly as he puts the words in the right order in his head. “Many names. None of them mine,” he answers, and Gavin frowns.

“And I don’t suppose you could tell me your actual name,” he says, tapping his fingers impatiently. He’s come to realize that his companion is mischievous at times, and the tilt of his lips as he eyes Gavin sidelong is _definitely_ an ‘I’m just fucking with you’ look. And yeah, right on cue, he opens his mouth and that terrifying elk shriek comes out, making Gavin clap his hands over his ears and tip over onto the ground. “GodDAMMIT!” he yells, kicking playfully at the man who’s now laughing so hard he’s bent double, antlers almost scraping the floor. “You’ve gotta be shitting me, that’s not your name!” 

Once they’ve both recovered from the laughter, the man looks at Gavin with a fondness he can’t bear to think about just yet, and says, “Gavin should choose. A new name.” Chewing his lip nervously, Gavin looks away, feeling heat crawling up the back of his neck. That’s a lot of trust to put in somebody like him, he thinks miserably. His eyes wander across the scattering of letters on the floor, and he’s only too aware that the man next to him has gone still, watching him expectantly. “Nnnn…..Niles,” he finally mutters, the name sliding off his tongue and into the still air like some sort of prayer. “Sounds kinda fussy, just like you,” Gavin adds, trying to play it off, like he could laugh and say it was a joke when the man inevitably scoffs at him. But when he finally gets up the courage to glance up at, well, at Niles, he’s smiling at Gavin again like he’s been given the greatest gift imaginable.

“Mmhm. Niles. That’s me,” he says, and he lays a hand on Gavin’s knee, so warm and gentle that he can’t bring himself to shake it off.

…

When the rain is pouring down outside, thunder crashes so loud it shakes dirt loose from the ceiling. Gavin presses his eyes shut and listens to the soothing hum of Niles’ voice as he recalls some long-forgotten prayer dirge. He hears the shift of bare feet as they pad over to sit next to his bed, and suddenly there are long fingers carding gently through his hair.  
…

…

Living in this cave was starting to become a problem. Not because it was uncomfortable or unpleasant, god no. Gavin was pretty sure he’d never been happier, and that was saying a _lot_. No, it was a problem because there was no goddamn privacy, and he hadn’t rubbed one out in fuckin weeks. He was only human after all, and once his body recovered from the shock of malnutrition and falling into a ravine, he had the good sense to appreciate what was in front of him. And what was in front of him was, as he’d realized the minute he woke up in this damn cave, potentially the hottest guy Gavin has ever seen. Niles is tall, broad shouldered, and ridiculously well muscled. But not in the way that gym rats are, where it’s obvious they’re trying too hard. No, in that way where Gavin’s pretty sure he could absolutely lift him up and choke him against the wall no problem. And he’s sure those strong hands closing on his windpipe would feel like heaven.

And goddammit, there, AGAIN, lay Gavin’s problem. His overly detailed fantasies were getting out of hand, and there was nowhere appropriate to handle the boner they always landed him with. Sure, Niles isn’t _always_ in the cave, sometimes he’s out doing whatever elk stuff he gets up to occasionally, but Gavin doesn’t want to risk getting interrupted mid session, and it’s not like the cave has a door. So he’s got all this tension building up in his chest and his gut and it feels like he’s going to explode. Just go for it, the horny part of his brain insists, he’s an adult too, surely he can’t be _that_ turned off by you, what’s the risk? But that’s just it...there is a risk. There’s a risk Gavin will fuck this up and lose probably the only person who cares about him in the least.

Because that’s what Gavin has come to realize is keeping him from picking up his gear - the thought that Niles would care if he left. That Niles cares about him at all is like some sort of god-given miracle (hah, maybe literally), and Gavin is scared down to his core that he’s going to ruin it by thinking with his dick. Something he has absolutely done in the past, so he has the experience to see when it’s about to happen. Not to mention he’s totally unsure about Niles’ emotional age here. He’s old, sure, but he’s been living here alone in this cave for hundreds of years. The thought of taking advantage of him somehow makes the bile start to rise in Gavin’s throat. He’s not just gorgeous, he’s probably the kindest and most thoughtful person he’s spent time with in a long time. Always making sure Gavin has whatever he needs, almost bashful whenever he makes a mistake speaking, laughing and joking and never seeming to get tired of Gavin’s foul mouth. And yet….

And yet Gavin finds himself staring at Niles’ lips as they sit cross-legged on the floor of the cave, the man’s fingers showing him how to twist threads of brightly dyed fiber into thin rope. That’s a skill he apparently needs to learn, now that he’s started to live in a fucking cave. Gavin Reed, rope maker, who would have guessed. He’s having trouble, fingers un-graceful as always, but mostly he’s just distracted by the fact that Niles’ tongue keeps swiping out and moistening his lips as he works, a habit that seems to kick in when he’s concentrating particularly hard. Just as he’s about to look away, Gavin feels those eyes lock onto him, catching him dead in the act. He swallows nervously, mouth opening slightly as his brain works overtime to figure a way out of this.

“Hey, bet I could play fuckin cat’s cradle on those things,” Gavin blurts out as he points at the antlers, and yeah, that’s dumb enough to startle Niles out of whatever he was going to ask. “What?” he asks instead, clearly perplexed, “What’s that?” Gavin’s struggling up onto his knees now, scooting forward to drape the colored cords in his hands across the sharp points and gentle swoops of the antlers.

“It’s a kid’s game,” he explains, “Like….making shapes with string between your fingers. Your antlers are perfect for it.” His dumb courage only gets him so far though, before his fingers start to slow, his brain catching up with the fact that this is the first time he’s actually put his hands on Niles’ antlers. The texture is smooth and hard, and the position he’s in means that Niles’ breath is hitting his chest, those big grey eyes looking up at him through dark lashes. Mouth dry, Gavin lets go of the string and sits back slightly, looking up at the intricate pattern he’d managed to weave, loose ends hanging down and tickling at Niles’ ears, making them flick in annoyance. “You’re too damn pretty…” he hears himself mutter, and then, before he can stop himself, Gavin’s leaning down and finally, finally, pressing their lips together.

…

Strong hands are cupping his jaw, fingers still tangled in string but too insistent to care. There’s the soft noise of someone sighing in satisfaction, like this is what they’ve been waiting for all along. Gavin’s not sure whose throat it comes out of.

…

…

When he opens his eyes, Gavin’s nose to nose with Niles, both of them breathing deep, trying to come to terms with what just happened. It’s Niles who breaks the silence, that hand on his jaw coming up to cradle Gavin’s cheek, “You’re beautiful too, Gavin” And he can’t help the flush that bursts across his cheeks at that, because goddamn it Niles actually means that shit. It’s written all over his sappy, handsome face, and Gavin just can’t stand it anymore. Surges forward into the man’s lap, mouth hungry and insistent this time as it crashes against Niles, his arms wrapping around broad shoulders like he’s going to fall again if he can’t anchor himself. And damn if the guy doesn’t do just that, his hands coming to rest on Gavin’s waist, holding him close as they make out like they’re pretty sure they’re never gonna get the chance again.

It doesn’t take long before Gavin’s rolling his hips, and oh shit does it feel good to finally get some friction down there. Even better because he can feel that Niles is into this just as much as he is, thank god. He had kind of assumed the guy had a dick, but then again you can’t just go around assuming things about people regardless of how insanely broad their shoulders are. But the horny part of Gavin’s brain is very, very happy to find that Niles does, in fact, have a dick. He moans as Niles moves off his lips to start sucking hickeys onto his neck, and then claps a hand over his mouth because oh my god that just echoed around the cave and it’s the sluttiest sound he’s ever heard. Gavin can feel his face turning beet red, but Niles just fucking chuckles against his throat, and the vibrations feel so amazing he can’t be mad. 

Gavin’s on the edge of begging for more sooner than he’d like to admit, since it’s clear Niles is intent on marking a fucking warpath down his throat and chest, shirt discarded what seems like years ago. He’s breathing hard, hand still half over his mouth to try and stop those damned moans from spilling out, but it’s getting harder to care by the minute.

“Niles, hey, Nnnn-Niles” he pants out, patting at his back to grab his attention. When the man finally does raise his head, mouth shiny with spit and a flush painted across his cheekbones, Gavin practically whines. “Let’s….let’s lay down, okay?” he asks, not wanting to stand up himself, but also wanting this to be everything he had imagined in his head. And he has definitely imagined getting fucked into his own bed, more times than he cares to admit. Niles seems to think about it for longer than necessary, before unfolding his legs and just picking Gavin up by the ass as he stands. The movement is so smooth, so unbothered, that Gavin is suddenly reminded of just who he’s making out with. The thought should bother him, that he’s about to get fucked by some weird forest god who’s thousands of years old and spends half of his time as a giant black elk, but...it’s Niles. It’s just Niles, the guy who makes him laugh when he’s having a shitty day, who dragged his ass to safety when he could have died alone in the forest. The guy who complains if he leaves clutter around the cave, because god forbid it look like anyone actually lives there. Gavin sighs happily as the anxiety recedes, and lets himself be deposited gently on the bed, splayed out on his back like some sort of pillow princess. Which, if he’s honest with himself, he’s come pretty close to being in the past. Luckily, Gavin Reed is never honest with himself.

Niles doesn’t immediately join him, which pulls another embarrassing whine out of his throat. “C’mon, you’re not seriously gonna leave me hanging here?” Gavin demands, knowing he sounds like a whiny bitch, but damn if he doesn’t feel like one right now. He strips off his pants and boxers while he waits, cause god knows he can’t get any more embarrassed, might as well just be naked. Niles simply laughs and returns after a moment to loom over the bed, eyes travelling across Gavin’s form hungrily. Despite Gavin’s truckload of other issues, he has to admit he’s never felt like less than an absolute _snacc_ in bed, but damn if that look still doesn’t send heat shooting up to his face and straight down to his dick.

“Hmmm...then should I have not got this?” Niles snickers, holding up what turns out to be one of the small jars of oil he keeps for, god, Gavin can’t remember right now, there’s just not enough blood left to fuel his brain.

“Smug bastard,” he retorts, huffing and turning his head away like that’ll do anything to hide how aroused he is, “Never shoulda taught you how to speak again.” He hears that laughter again, low and sweet, as Niles crawls onto the bed, settling in-between his thighs like he’s going to set up camp and live there. “What would you like me to do instead with my mouth?” he purrs, trailing one long finger down the lines of Gavin’s hip.

“Don’t fuckin tease me” Gavin snaps, but the effect is ruined when he admits in a choked up mumble “....I want you, come on, Niles.” He’s waited so long, his body feels like it’s burning up, and he needs desperately to silence those voices in his head that are telling him this is all some kind of sick joke, some fantasy gone wrong that he’s going to wake up from any second. Come on Gavin, they whisper, why would he want someone like you, you’re such a mess, who are you foo--There’s a warm hand soothing over his chest, fingers running softly across the abused skin. 

“I’ve got you, Gav,” Niles murmurs, voice low and rumbling out of his chest, but his expression has softened, looking down fondly at Gavin like he can hear every rushing thought in his head. And he doesn’t have a chance to say anything coherent in reply because Niles has started preparing him and it hits Gavin with an uncomfortable jolt just how long it’s been since anything’s been in his ass. He squirms at the intrusion, worrying at his lip, so Niles leans up and kisses him again as a distraction. 

The distraction works, in his defense, and it’s not too long before Gavin is panting and squirming in pleasure instead of discomfort. Niles is being infuriatingly gentle and slow, like he doesn’t want to cause him any sort of pain, and that thought has Gavin’s heart pounding in his chest and his hips canting up into those clever fingers. But he can’t stand it any more, if he doesn’t get fucked soon he’s going to start tearing up (from how good this feels or how kind Niles is being, either way he doesn’t like his odds).

“Please, please, I’m ready, just do it,” he pants out, reaching down and grasping uselessly at the hand Niles is using to hold his hips steady, “Fuck me already, I won’t break.” Niles just looks at him with those big dark eyes like he’s imagining every possible future and most of them involve him teasing Gavin with those hands until he’s screaming. Luckily, he takes pity on the man underneath him and finally, finally, finally eases in until his hips are flat against Gavin’s skin, the burn of taking him in shooting pleasantly up his spine and forcing a breathy moan out of his throat.

“God, yes…” Gavin hears himself mutter, but he’s too pleased to care about embarrassing himself. Niles is buried balls deep in his ass, it’s not like it would be better if he _wasn’t_ enjoying himself. It’s not long before his hips are twitching, aching for more than just that still pressure from his partner. And Niles, bless his heart, actually obliges without being asked this time, one hand on Gavin’s hip and one on the inside of his thigh to keep him spread out as he pulls back and snaps his hips forward. The pace he sets isn’t nearly fast enough, but dammit if Gavin isn’t a wreck faster than he’d like to admit. At some point Niles must have leaned down to get a better angle because Gavin’s seeing stars, and his hands come up to find purchase on those amazing antlers. This turns out to be the best idea Gavin’s had since, well, probably since he started making out with Niles earlier, but that’s a moot point right now. 

The antlers are smooth and solid under his fingers, and occasionally there’s the brush of softness as those stupid strings he put there sway from the motion of Niles fucking into him. Gavin has a sudden image of Niles with gold and silver strung in his antlers, gems twinkling and swaying as they hang suspended from those sharp points. He’s going to have to make that happen someday, treat him to the luxury he deserves. But right now Gavin’s holding on for dear life, his body rocking back and forth as he gasps. It takes him a moment to realizes he’s not the only one making noise, and he focuses enough to finally take in the sight of Niles….fuck, that’s almost enough to make him lose his breath, a curl of heat building up in his gut.

Niles had his mouth set in a concentrated line as they began, all quiet concern for Gavin’s comfort and safety, but he’s lost some of that composure now that he’s thrusting into that tight heat. His mouth is slightly open, breath coming in short pants as he watches Gavin’s body quake beneath him. There’s a flush across his cheekbones, and the hand that’s gripping his hip is starting to shake with the effort of not clamping down and leaving bruises. That really goes straight to his dick, and he realizes he’s starting to get close.

“Fffffuck, Niles, Niles, come on” Gavin whines, digging his feet into the bed for leverage so he can move his hips in tandem with the other man’s. “H-harder, I need it.” Niles takes him at his word, letting out a groan of his own as he lets loose a little, hands clenching into Gavin’s flesh as he really starts to pound in. His nails are going to leave angry red crescents in his skin when they pull away, he can already feel it. 

And there it is, there’s that edge of pain Gavin really needs to get off, his idiot brain craving abuse even when he’s getting the most conscientious fuck of his life. He can dimly hear himself babbling Niles name as his orgasm builds, the rush of blood in his ears blocking out the sound of his own voice. His back arches off the bed as he comes, knuckles white where they’re clutching Niles antlers. It doesn’t take the other man too long to follow, thank god, because Gavin’s not sure how much more abuse his poor ass can take at this point. Niles hangs there above him, panting through the waves of pleasure before he slowly pulls out and slumps onto the mattress next to Gavin. Considerate, really, given that if he had pitched forward Gavin might have had his eye put out by a stray antler point.

Silence descends between them, broken only by the sound of both of their breathing returning to normal. Gavin isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch, having been reprimanded too many times by exes for being ‘a damn clingy ass’, but Niles doesn’t waste too much time before wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. He immediately melts into the body next to him, head nuzzling into the crook of Niles’ neck with a satisfied sigh. It’s kind of gross, given the sticky mess on their lower halves, but he can’t risk losing this feeling. This feeling that he’s actually wanted here, that this wasn’t just some kind of fling. Niles is pressing soft kisses onto the top of his head, and one hand is stroking softly up and down his back. There are a lot of words building up in Gavin’s throat, and he’s not sure if he feels ready to let some of them out. Instead he murmurs, “I don’t want to leave,” just loudly enough that Niles will have a chance to hear it. 

“Then stay here with me,” comes the reply, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

…

He adorns Niles in kisses and braided cords, and finally in gold and silver, the long forgotten offerings glinting dully in the light of the fire. But Niles always insists that Gavin is more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen. And dammit, Gavin knows he’d be a fool to argue with that kind of devotion, so he presses their lips together tenderly, and drinks in the affections of a god.  
…  
...

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is an appropriate place to note that given the chance I would and could fistfight Dabid Caje for his numerous crimes and bad opinions


End file.
